Gone
by barbershoppepole
Summary: John has been missing for 4 years with no contact with anyone. When he finally returns, in tattered clothes dried with blood stains, how would he explain it to his family and, more importantly, his best friend Dave?


The blond awoke to a light tapping at his front door. He groaned and threw an arm over his face, trying to block out the sound somehow. He wasn't going to open the door. He hadn't opened the door for years now. _It's just your imagination, dude. Ignore it and it'll go away. It's not him. It will never be him. _Dave sighed and rolled over on the couch, wincing as he crushed a crumpled piece of paper underneath his arm. He'd gotten bigger in the last few years since his best friend disappeared. He'd gotten number, too. You could barely get a response from him anymore. He hadn't been on Pesterchum to answer anyways. He avoided it as soon as the chumhandle disappeared.

The knocking continued and Dave groaned louder before standing and shuffling to the door. He adjusted his thin bathrobe and tried to hide his ratty boxers, finding himself unable since there was a big hole where his boxers were. _Note to self, buy a new bathrobe. _He rolled his eyes, red gaze piercing the ceiling for a moment before he opened the door. Instantly, he slammed it shut and kicked it, "Not fucking _funny_, Jade!"

A timid voice called back through the wood, "Uh…Dave? It's not…it's me, Dave. Can you…open the door?" The voice was hopeful, if weak, and it made Dave's legs shake. He threw open the door and stared at the bloody figure in front of him. His hair was longer—probably why Dave thought it was Jade—and his voice seemed deeper, if that was possible. The figure was scrawnier than it used to be, but at the same time, he looked happier than before. The figure raised a hand in greeting, but stayed in place as the taller male checked him over multiple times. After a few minutes, though, he groaned, "Jesus, Dave. I'm not an apparition. You gonna let me the fuck in? It's cold out."

Dave nodded numbly and stepped aside. _Yeah. That's John all right. _The small body slipped past Dave and made itself comfortable. The door was shut and they stood in silence for a minute, before the blond could build up the courage to speak, "What…the fuck?"

John tensed and turned, gazing hopefully at the tall male, "I was…kind of hoping you wouldn't ask questions." His lower lip puckered slightly, but, seeing the platinum blond hair shake, he sighed. "I ran off."

"Yeah, I kind of fucking know. You ran off and ditched us. You…ditched _me_, even. So, what the fuck?" Dave's voice was caught in his throat, and he was straining to keep his face calm. He didn't know how to react, though his body seemed to be worried. His hands grew clammy and his breathing rate rose. "You fucking _ditched _me, man. Who the fuck does that?! What did you even have to run away from?! You selfish fucking bastard! Gone for four goddamn years, and you come back with 'you gonna let me in?' Do you even know what you did to _me_! I've been fucking dead, John! Why didn't you at least fucking _tell_ me! I-"

His ranting was cut short from a tight hug around his middle. Soft hands wiped at his cheeks—wiped away tears he never knew he had—and murmurs of comfort and sorrow wafted across his ears. "I'm sorry, Dave. Let me explain? You can…you can hate me after. Just let me try to explain." John started speaking when he felt a slight nod between his hands. His eyes were downcast as he spoke, "Dad was…stressing me out. 'Do all your homework.' 'Nothing less than A's, young man.' I couldn't handle it anymore. I know it's a shitty reason, but…it was enough that I had to get out. So…I drove off. Stole his car and everything. I drove as far as I could without stopping for gas and ended up somewhere in Oklahoma. Then, I got a job there for a bit, after disguising myself with dyes and stuff, and I earned enough to hit the road again. I drove to Washington and stayed there for a while. It was nice. Cold, but nice enough that I stayed for a year. No one ever new, Dave. It was great to start over like that, you know? Like, made me feel like I could be whatever I wanted, no matter how much I fucked up. Dave…I felt happy."

Dave swallowed the lump forming in his throat and hugged John close, "That's…great man. But it doesn't explain the blood, you know. What the fuck happened to you?"

"Ah, the blood? Well…I was running through the woods because I thought I saw someone that looked like you and I wanted to see you so badly! But I tripped and fell, and scraped myself all over. I almost got staked on a broken tree! But, I'm fine now and I'll be okay! Just hurts a bit, you know?" John grinned, buck teeth flashing. _God, at least he still has those fucking beaver teeth. _

Dave nodded and forced a smile, "You can use my shower if you want, dude."

John squealed and pecked Dave's cheek before running to the bathroom and slamming the door. The blond sat back down on the couch and held his head in his hands. That's what he'd heard that morning. John falling down a fucking hill. If he had turned around, they could've been reunited this _morning_. A low whine escaped his lips and he shook slightly. The feelings coursing through him felt terrible. It was like everything he hadn't felt the past two years was taking turns stabbing him in the chest. The water started running and Dave picked himself up and stripped. He pulled on semi-decent clothes, calling an all-night pizza place while tugging his pants on. He didn't bother with a shirt. Not like he could hide his fat ass with one anyways. He figured John would be in there for at least half an hour. That way, Dave could think. He could get rid of all the emotions tearing him up inside. After a few minutes of staring into space, he sat on the floor and curled up in a ball, shaking from the feelings coursing through his veins. He felt warm. It was too hot. Dave stood quickly and opened up a window before deciding to just step outside, his breathing got faster and his vision was getting shaky. _Fuck, fuck, fuck. Goddammit. Calm down, Strider. He's back and that's all that matters. He's happy to see you. Don't freak out now. Just. Calm. Down. _

John stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Seeing the open door, he stepped outside and rested his head on Dave's shoulder. "I came back because I missed you. It's lonely moving place to place all the time. I just wanted my best friend there." John smiled and glanced up through his lashes before pecking Dave's cheek again. "Come inside. Also, can I wash my clothes? And are we getting food? I'm gettin' kinda hungry." He chattered excitedly as he walked inside, water still streaking down his spine. Dave hugged John from behind, burying his face in the kid's hair. He inhaled deeply and shook with dry sobs, just clinging to John. The brunet let him and closed his eyes, leaning against the strong presence behind him.

A few moments later, Dave pulled back and wiped his eyes. "You can borrow some of my clothes. But…only if you promise to stay a while. I mean a week or two, man. Not just a few hours, understand?"

John nodded solemnly and ran to Dave's room to get changed. A few seconds in, he called, "Dave! You fatass! Your clothes are too big on me!"

Dave called back, "Stress eating. Just tie 'em up."

John returned downstairs, clothes hanging loosely around him. He hugged Dave tightly and nuzzling him, sniffing deeply before pulling away. "Jesus titfucking C- when was the last time you showered?"

"I'll admit…I stopped taking care of myself. But it's not a big d-" John tugged Dave insistently to the bathroom and started the bath. "Woah, man. You need to calm down. I'm fine."

"Strip or I'll do it for you," John smiled and felt the water, pushing down the stopper when he deemed it warm enough. He sighed when he straightened out and saw Dave fully clothed. The brunet started stripping Dave, pulling his pants and boxers down. "If I'm staying for a few _months_, I'm doing laundry and stuff. You're going to work and paying rent and shit. I'll be your housewife." He pushed Dave towards the bath and trotted to where he assumed the laundry was, smiling when he found it. He started the wash, cleaning both his and Dave's clothes and returned to the bathroom. He knelt by the tub and rolled up his sleeves, grabbing the shampoo.

Dave grabbed the slender wrist by his face, "I can fuckin' wash myself, thanks."

"…Right." John's face fell and he dropped the shampoo, ignoring the splash it made. "Right. Sorry. I'll…be in the living room. I'll…tidy up. Yeah," He chewed his lower lip and absconded, standing in the living room with a determined pose. Eventually the façade dropped, though, and he crumpled to the floor, shaking with quiet sobs. He grabbed his clothes from the wash and tugged them back on, the wet fabric sticking to his skin.

He shakily made his way to the door and only stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, "Where ya goin'?"

He wiped his eyes and shook his head, "I-I can't. I'm sorry. I tried to stay. I just…can't."

Dave pulled the shaking boy against himself and held him close. "Try harder. I'm not letting you leave again." He stripped John slowly and left the soaked clothes on the floor, pulling him deeper into the house. "If you're gonna wash me, you gotta be in the bath with me, man. It's a little weird to just sit on the floor and scrub me down." He smiled against John's hair and shuffled him to the tub. The boy squeaked when he was near the water, but Dave coaxed him in, sliding into the lukewarm liquid beside the brunet.

John snuggled into Dave's shoulder and sighed contently, tracing patterns on the blond's chest. Dave sighed himself and kissed the top of John's head. "Let's wash up."

They cleaned each other carefully, Dave ignoring John's protests about having already washed and John ignoring Dave's shouts about splashing water in the goddamn tub. When most of the water was on the floor and the two were decently stench-free, Dave toweled John off carefully, making sure to ruffle his hair before wrapping John up tightly like a mother would her child. He toweled himself mechanically until John stole the towel and carefully dried every inch of the taller, pulling him into a warm hug when he finished.

They stayed in that position for a while before John mumbled sleepily against Dave's shoulder and the blond reluctantly took him to the cluttered bedroom. "It's…cramped and messy, but you can sleep here." Dave pushed the piles of trash off the bed and tucked John in, wrapping the blankets around him. He leaned down and kissed the brunet's damp forehead, gasping when oddly strong arms pulled him onto the bed.

"Sleep with me, please," John's eyes were wide and innocent. "I don't wanna be alone." He grinned when he felt the bed shift and a heavy weight against his side. Dave curled up around John, keeping the blanket as a buffer between them as they lay naked. Suddenly, the doorbell rang and Dave shot up, cursing. He barged from the room and came back a few minutes later, face bright red and pizza in hand. John snorted and hid his face in the blanket, giggling softly.

"Shut up and sleep. God damn." Dave set the pizza down and spooned John once more, sighing as his muscles relaxed into the mattress. "G'night, John." He didn't get a reply; instead, he heard a soft snore and a sleepy sigh. Dave smiled and dozed off, holding John close.


End file.
